


Distorted Illusions (Rough Draft) (EAD)

by WaterSoter



Series: WaterSoter's 2018 Evil Author Day, [8]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), NCIS, The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Canon-Typical Violence, Disturbing Themes, EAD, Evil Author Day, Evil Author Day 2018, F/M, Fem Antonia "Toni" DiNozzo, Fem Evelyn Standish, Fem Vin Tanner, Genderbending, Genderswap, Graphic Description, Implied/Referenced Murder, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, Minor Character Death, Murder, Mutilation, No Beta, Permanent Injury, Suicide, Torture, WIP, canon AU, dark themes, fem Stephanie Reid, implied/referenced other trigger topics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 08:39:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13700898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaterSoter/pseuds/WaterSoter
Summary: A new director, forced to work with the sister of Kate’s murderer, mysterious deaths of newly online, unbounded guides, a sentinel that treats her like a bed warmer and a sentinel/guide community that keeps questioning her bond with her sentinel are just the tip of the iceberg of the crap Toni has to deal with when a new case lands on their laps. Canon AU. Crossover with Criminal Minds and Magnificent Seven (TV). Canon AU.





	Distorted Illusions (Rough Draft) (EAD)

**Author's Note:**

> With everything that was messed up with Season 3, I thought it the perfect time to set this fic at. This is a Sentinel/Guide are known AU. Toni is always a female here and this story is primarily a crossover with Criminal Minds with female Spencer Reid/Aaron Hotchner and Magnificent Seven (TV) female Vin Tanner/Chris Larabee and fem Ezra Standish.

Art Cover by WaterSoter

*O*O*O*

The music rose to a crescendo, a pounding of acoustics that struck bone deep and left those in hearing distance trembling in its aftermath. The wide open space perfect for such concerts. The man smiled as the last note faded. A beautiful piece about pain and loss. Perfect in so many ways.  
  
There was a pounding on the walls around the apartment. From the ceiling. His neighbors didn’t appreciate the piercing strength of the piece. Oh well. There was yelling, that he was used to. So he ignored it as he chose the next piece.   
  
No cds or that digital crap. Oh no, he had the originals in records. Smooth black discs that let the full power of the music flow freely without any interference of filters. No, music was not meant to be tamed. It was meant to pound through walls and rooms and buildings. Notes like leafs in a pebbles in a torrent.   
  
There was Chopin, too frail for what needed to be expressed here. Tchaikovsky, too over-bloated.   Mozart, yes, Mozart was the one. He skimmed through the play list, Summer Overture. Requiem for a Dream. The irony was too delicious to even contemplate.   
  
He placed the record and let the first delicate chords drift into the air. The neighbors made their displeasure known. He raised the volume as far as the player would go. Not loud enough, but oh well, for what he wanted it didn’t really matter.   
  
He went over to his computer, an antique as far as the world was concern but that too was a thing of beauty. He logged into his account. The blog alit with chatter.   
  
He typed with careful fingers “I’m ready.” And let the comment be posted. He waited as Mozart let loose his magic. Cradled between one note to another. He flew and fell and waited. Waited and waited. The music coming to an end and no, he would have to replay that composition.   
  
Before he needed to do so, the reply popped on his screen like a neon light. His eyes devoured it hungrily, yes. It was right.   
  
The man rose from his seat. A calm smile stretching his chapped lips. He reached patted down his uniform. A bright white and placed his cover carefully over his head. The mirror in the corner highlighted the fine lines and various medal and awards.   
  
He stood for a moment and admired his visage. He always loved how the uniform looked on him. He tapped at his medals, took a his polished service weapon and blew his brains out. 


End file.
